


Brokenhearted

by SkyFireForever



Category: The Mechanisms (Band)
Genre: Angst, Depression, Sad, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-22
Updated: 2020-10-22
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:20:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27144412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SkyFireForever/pseuds/SkyFireForever
Summary: Five times Jonny d’Ville wished he could die and one time he did.
Relationships: Jonny d'Ville/The Mechanisms Ensemble
Comments: 2
Kudos: 39





	Brokenhearted

One

Jonny’s hands were red. Red with the blood of his father. His father who was dead. His father who he had shot. His father who he had cradled in his arms as he died. His father who had loved him and who he had loved in return. 

Jonny had killed his father. 

And he was supposed to just live with that guilt. 

How could he? How could he face himself after what he had done?

Doctor Carmilla had escorted him aboard her ship, promising him a new world and a better life with his new family. 

She promised things would be better. 

He sat on the bed in the room she had declared was his, looking down at his blood soaked hands. He hadn’t even had the chance to wash them before Carmilla had taken him away. 

He began to tremble. 

He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t fucking do this. He couldn’t live with himself. 

He dashed out of the room and into the doctor’s lab, rummaging through vials and bottles until he found what he needed. 

He picked up a small bottle labeled “poison”. Why she had it and why it was labeled so clearly was anyone’s guess. 

He took it and returned to his bedroom, turning the bottle over in his hand. 

Was it worth it? Was it worth not knowing what came next? 

Fuck it. Anything was worth escaping this. 

He opened the bottle and downed it before he could think better of it. 

At first, nothing happened. He began to think that the bloody shit just didn’t work. 

But then, it hit him. 

His heart skipped a beat and began pounding inside of his chest. Then, his head started to spin. Before he knew it, he was falling to the ground. 

As consciousness faded, a smile spread across his lips. He would never have to deal with the responsibility of his actions again.

And as his flesh heart began to slow, he distantly heard the sound of footsteps approaching followed by the sound of a scream. 

Of course, he didn’t know that this would be the closest he got to death in a long, long time. 

Two

Jonny tried to kill himself multiple times. When the guilt of the things he’d done got to be too much, when he couldn’t bear to look at himself in the mirror, when he was bored. 

It never worked. At least not for long. He always woke up, gasping and feeling his mechanical heart working inside of his chest. 

It was torture. 

It got better when he wasn’t alone. When Nastya and Brian and the Toy Soldier and Ashes and Ivy joined. 

It wasn’t his fault that they were cursed with immortality. 

But he did nothing to stop it. 

And sometimes he felt bad about it. 

But sometimes he was just glad to have people he could relate to. 

Then, there was Tim. 

Tim, who he had fought beside in the moon war. Tim, who hated him from the moment they met. Tim, who was so in love with his best friend Bertie that it was obvious. 

But then Bertie died and things went to shit.

And the fucker had to go and blow up the moon. 

And Carmilla hadn’t been around. And the Mechanisms felt pity for him, thought he was cool, didn’t want him to die. 

So they had fucking mechanized him. 

Jonny had been encouraging, had even  _ helped  _ with the process. 

And now Tim was alive, his eyes terribly damaged and face fucked up. But alive. 

Not that he wanted to be. 

The first word from Tim’s lips when he awoke was Bertie’s name, voice filled with hope. He’d clearly been expecting to see his best friend once he reached heaven or wherever the fuck he thought he was going. 

He would remain disappointed. 

Especially when he learned that Bertie had gone where Tim would never join him. 

Tim tried all the same things Jonny had. He drank poison, shot himself, hung himself, all manner of things. 

Of course, none of them worked. 

And it was Jonny’s fault. 

He couldn’t feign ignorance, couldn’t pretend that he wasn’t the one to do it so it was fine. He couldn’t put this one out of his head. 

It was  _ his fault.  _

And he would have to live with that.

Forever. 

Forever and ever and ever. 

Just for shits, he held a gun to his temple. Maybe this time, maybe just this once, it would work. 

It didn’t. 

Three. 

Jonny hadn’t pushed Doctor Carmilla out of the airlock. 

He really hadn’t. 

And he didn’t know who had. 

But he wished it had been him. 

He  _ should  _ have been him. 

But it hadn’t been. 

And in that respect, he had failed everyone. 

He should have protected them from her. Should have been the one to save them. 

But he hadn’t. 

How was he supposed to live with the knowledge that someone else had the guts to do what he wouldn’t? 

He didn’t want to. Didn’t want to live with that knowledge. 

So he shot himself into space, hoping that he would freeze or suffocate or explode or whatever space did to the body. 

And he did, but he came back. 

He always came back. 

Four. 

Jonny repressed most of his dreams. He didn’t want to remember them, so he didn’t. 

He woke up, shaking and panting. He was surrounded by the other Mechanisms who were all fast asleep. 

All, save for the Toy Soldier, who never slept. It just laid in bed with the others, silent and unmoving. It was honestly quite creepy. 

Jonny looked around at the rest of the crew. They were all so peaceful, so sweet. He loved them all so much, not that he’d ever come close to admitting it. 

They would all be so much better off without him. 

He could just imagine it. 

They’d be so relieved. They’d be overjoyed. They’d finally be free of him. 

He didn’t even bother attempting again. He just went back to sleep with the knowledge that everyone would be happier if he could just stay dead. 

Five. 

Nastya was gone. 

She had left. 

She was gone and she wasn’t coming back. 

Jonny closed his eyes, sitting in her bed as he clutched one of her old jackets. 

She was gone. 

Jonny had never felt so empty before. So absolutely hopeless. 

He wanted nothing more than to follow her, to get lost in the cosmos, to close his eyes and never open them again. 

God, he missed her. 

How was he going to explain this to the rest of the crew? How was he going to live with it himself? 

He just wanted his sister back. 

But that would never happen. 

She would never stick out her tongue at him again. He would never flip her off. He would never sing her name during a showing of Once Upon a Time (in Space). She would never play her violin. 

She was gone. 

And Jonny wished he was too. 

Plus one. 

It was going to stick. 

Jonny could feel it. Could feel his heart start to give out, start to beat slower. 

He laughed. 

He laughed and laughed and laughed, a wild gleam in his eye. 

He would finally be free. 

Nastya. 

He was coming.

He closed his eyes, so excited for whatever would come next. 

  
  



End file.
